


Sally Donovan's Legs ("Elevate" Remix)

by gloria_scott



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Het and Slash, Heterosexual Sex, M/M, POV First Person, Remix, Sexual Content, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 23:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloria_scott/pseuds/gloria_scott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John inadvertently triggers memories that Sherlock thought he had deleted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sally Donovan's Legs ("Elevate" Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Elevate](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3448) by doodle. 



> (1) Remix of _[](http://doodle.livejournal.com/profile)[ **doodle**](http://doodle.livejournal.com/) 's fic, [Elevate ](http://doodle-writes.livejournal.com/28052.html#cutid1)for the [](http://sherlock-remix.livejournal.com/profile)[**sherlock_remix**](http://sherlock-remix.livejournal.com/) challenge.  
>  (2) All dialogue is from the original story.  
> (3) Thanks to [](http://mad-maudlin.livejournal.com/profile)[**mad_maudlin**](http://mad-maudlin.livejournal.com/) for the beta, and [](http://letherebelight.livejournal.com/profile)[**letherebelight**](http://letherebelight.livejournal.com/) for the Brit-pick!  
> 

“With legs as short as yours, it would take us more than an hour.”

 _This is a statement of objective fact; we can only move as quickly as the slowest of us. I see you’ve taken it as a slight, if your lowered eyebrows and clenched jaw are any indication. Oh, John, you can be so very pedestrian at times. Ha… pedestrian… how droll. Still, your mean walking speed (taken from copious samples over the past three months) is 2.63 miles per hour, whereas mine is 2.88 miles per hour. We are in South Kensington, approximately 2.5 miles from Baker Street. Factoring in exhaustion levels, as it is three in the morning, that makes our estimated travel time sixty-five minutes (+/- 3)… simple math._

 _Ah. Hands fisted, shoulders tense... you’re preparing to retaliate. In three… two… one…_

“I’m pretty sure you weren’t complaining about my legs last night. Unless you’d rather have some longer ones wrapped around you – Sally Donovan’s, maybe?”

 _Sally Donovan’s legs are long and lean and powerful. I shouldn’t know this but I do. They wrap around my hips and squeeze in a python-like grip as I move inside of her… soft, wet, aromatic… her scent reminds me of gardenias… oddly sweet. Her skin is smooth and supple under the palms of my hands as I run them over her thighs. And the look of her as she comes… eyes closed, head thrown back, panting “yes!” as she pulses around me, fingernails clawing red marks down my arms. I tip forward and lose myself in the tangle of her limbs._

 _Damn. I thought I had deleted those bits._

“You are an evil little man, John Watson. My libido may never recover from such a horrific mental image.”

“I don’t know,” _you say, stepping up onto the curb in an obvious effort to meet me at eye-level._ “If you get us home in less than an hour I’ll remind you just what these evil little legs can do.”

 _Challenge accepted, and I shall hold you to your promise._

“Maybe they could make it in an hour,” _I concede,_ “with such a proper incentive.”

 _You silence me with a kiss. Well played, Doctor._

***

 _Fifty-four minutes, oh very good, John._

 _You’re tired; it was a slog for you to even get up the stairs to the flat… the flight up to your bedroom is obviously out of the question. Now you’re sprawled on the couch, eyes closed – don’t think I’ve forgotten our agreement! That’s all right, then. I’ll have you right here. Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes._

 _Now it’s your legs wrapped around me, and such a different conglomeration of sensations. Your calves encircle me loosely – you can barely be bothered to keep them up. I push inside you and, ah, there you are! That woke you up a bit, didn’t it? So tight and hot…this won’t take long. I breathe in the acrid smell of your sweat, no longer masked by the deodorant you applied well over twenty-one hours ago. The hair covering your thighs makes your skin feel rough to my hands, and you moan my name soft and low._

 _Much better. Data overwrite commencing…_   



End file.
